


we've been here before a few times and I'm quite aware we're dying

by katiejo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:06:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiejo/pseuds/katiejo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's three am and Ashton's missing him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we've been here before a few times and I'm quite aware we're dying

**Author's Note:**

> It's one am and I'm sad again, so this happened I'm sorry.
> 
> Title is from the one and only blink182.

It's three am and Ashton's missing him again.

His fingers are shaking with the remembrance of how they used to intertwine with another's. His lips are aching to be connected to another pair, to feel them molding into one mouth of heat and need. His mind is drowning in memories of laughter and chaos.

The empty spot in his bed beside him is screaming at him, begging to be heard, begging to be filled yet again. He, of course, wants nothing more than that.

It's three thirty am and Ashton's crying again.

Each breath is a sharp knife to his stomach. The air is harsh, grating against his lungs. His sobs shake his mind, body, and soul. The tears burn at his cheeks as they begin to fall faster and faster. No one is there to wipe them away this time.

The agony is set deep, deep in his core. His heart is paralyzed with it. It overcomes him completely when it feels no resistance.

The memories start striking at him harder- the late nights, the stolen kisses, the intimate moments. 

It's four am and Ashton is desperate.

His fingers fumble with the buttons on his phone as he finds his contact. His mind is toppling over itself at the sight of his name so he does what he always does at this time of the night- he clicks it. 

And now his phone is ringing, ringing, ringing while his heart is sinking, sinking, sinking. He know's what comes next, what always comes next, but no matter how many times he repeats this he will never be prepared for the voice that begins.

Bile rises in his throat as Calum's voice surrounds him like a soothing lullaby. He could get so lost in it, just like old times. He could listen to it for hours and never grow bored with the way Calum's voice delicately wraps around each word.

Before he has a chance to fully immerse himself in it, it's ending, cutting off in a blunt beep.

He then tries- he really does- to restrain himself from hitting redial. He fails.

Again and again, he does this. It becomes an addiction. Calum's voice becomes his addiction. He's completely out of his mind by now, drinking in the only part of Calum he has left. 

Eventually, Calum's phone is going to be turned off and then he's going to be forced to find some other piece of him to cling on to.

It's four thirty am and Ashton's never felt so weak.

His resolve is crumbling, leaving him numb and bare. Without Calum here, there's no joy behind the bird songs. There's no beauty woven into the sunsets. There's no warmth behind anyone's touch. There's only nothing.

He needs him. 

If only he had known back then how few moments they had left together. Maybe he would have held him tighter when he could. They could have waited a heartbeat longer to end their kisses. Maybe he could have convinced him to wait a few more minutes before leaving. Maybe he could have gotten into the car with him.

His mind is all a sickly mess of 'maybe's and 'what if's. 

The only thing he knows for certain is that he wishes he was sitting in the passenger seat with him when the impact happened. That way he wouldn't have to know what living without Calum feels like.

It's five am and Ashton knows he's done it again.

He's followed his routine exactly, resulting in yet another night of sorrow and sleeplessness. One of these nights, his breathing is simply going to dwindle from these crushing emotions.

He cannot wait for that to happen.


End file.
